


Limited Edition

by NotManTheLessButNatureMore



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M, Friendship, cheesecake existentialism, mid life crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 08:36:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20904746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotManTheLessButNatureMore/pseuds/NotManTheLessButNatureMore
Summary: Nick has a bit of a mid-life crisis due to Strike’s cheesecake consumption.





	Limited Edition

**Author's Note:**

> There’s a bit in Career of Evil (the TV version, can’t remember if it’s in the book) where Nick tells Strike they need to talk about his cholesterol and so this morning while drinking coffee it escalated into this. I love that Nick is such a cutie and a kind and caring friend (at least in my head but I think most will agree). 
> 
> WARNING for death talk - but in an existential-mid-life-crisis sort of way. No one actually dies (thankfully).

“What?” Strike half bellowed across the table at Nick.

“Nothing.” Nick replied, his eyes settling on the plate in front of Strike. His gaze had barely moved from the plate since the first slice of cheesecake had been piled on top. Strike was now finishing his second slice and eyeing up a third by the looks of it.

“You’ve been staring at me all dinner like you’re fucking Oliver Twist, out with it.” Strike said as his fork clattered off the plate.

“Your diet, it’s too high in saturated fat.” Nick responded in a forced casual tone.

“My what?” Strike’s eyebrows rose as he looked between Robin and Ilsa.

“Hey, that’s mum’s special recipe, that is. Zero calorie cheesecake.” Ilsa said with a smile thrown Robin’s way.

“It’s not zero calories, it’s full of artery clogging fat and he’s had two massive slices-“

“Oh piss off Nick.” Strike sighed tiredly as he reached a hand towards the cake in search of another slice, more to spite Nick than because of any appetite.

“Cormoran-“ Robin began but Strike’s action was halted by Nick who grabbed the edge of the dessert plate first and heaved it towards himself roughly.

“Nick!” Ilsa exclaimed, grabbing the neck of a bottle of wine he’d almost toppled.

“He’s had enough.” Nick said forcefully as he began pilling empty takeaway cartons onto his plate.

“‘He’s’ right here, and why are you being such a tosser? You ate half the naan-”

“Well I exercise don’t it?” Nick replied defensively.

“Oh sorry I don’t run a 10k with you every Sunday.”

“Nick, that’s not fair.” Robin interjected. She had playfully teased Strike in the past about exercising more, swimming mostly, but hearing someone else address it just made her feel defensive on his behalf.

“Tosser.” Strike muttered into his can of cider as Ilsa looked glumly at her wine glass.

“I’m not being a tosser, I’m-“

“-being a twat?” Cormoran asked childishly. Nick looked around the table and then stood, his mouth set in a grim line and his nostrils flared.

“Fine. Clog up your arteries, have a heart attack in the car on the way home. See if I care.” He said before storming out through the sliding back doors and into the darkened garden, leaving the others behind in a heavy silence.

“So...” Robin started and then faltered before downing the last of her wine. Strike continued watching the dark corner of the garden Nick had disappeared into.

“He’s been a right moody sod all week.” Ilsa said as she pushed her chair back and made to stand.

“No, I’ll go.” Strike announced with a tight smile thrown towards Robin and Ilsa as he pulled himself up.

The cold night air hit Strike as he stepped outside, his hand automatically pulling out a cigarette and match. He spotted Nick sitting on the low wall that divided a deep flower bed from the rest of the garden. His head was bowed and Ozzy was in his lap, having appeared from wherever the cats usually disappeared to when Strike was in their vicinity.

“Bit rude to throw a wobbly at a guest for eating some cheesecake.” Strike said as he lowered himself down onto the wall with a grunt.

“It’s my curry night, I can throw a wobbly if I want to.” Nick said with a shy smile thrown Strike’s way.

“So what’s behind this week’s midlife crisis then?” Strike asked as he struck a match and went about lighting his cigarette

“We’re all going to die and I’m not ready for it.”

“Jesus Christ Nick.” Strike said with a frown as he blew out a puff of smoke.

“Well we are. And speeding up the process by eating half a cheesecake in one go doesn’t help.”

“Firstly, it wasn’t half a cheesecake and secondly, you never usually end up in an existential crisis because of my eating habits.”

“People that have undergone an amputation have a higher risk of heart problems.” Nick explained in doctor mode but Strike just scowled and looked away, taking a deep drag on his cigarette.

“Sorry, it’s just... Don’t take this the wrong way but you’ve had more experience than me-“

“Can’t argue with that.” Strike smirked and Nick just rolled his eyes.

“I mean with death.” He finished and Strike’s smirk faltered.

“I’ve never had to face it. I mean, in a professional capacity sure, there’s no escaping it when you’re a doctor but never with anyone that I love.” Nick explained as he pressed the cat closer to him and stroked a finger along its cheek.

“Even when you had your leg blown off, by the time we found out anything had happened you were already out of surgery and being flown to Germany so we knew you’d be alright.”

Strike glanced away as Nick looked over at him. His morphine soaked brain had still managed to imprint on his mind the ashen faces of Nick and Ilsa, and Ted, Joan and Lucy when they had first seen him, hours after landing back on British soil and being admitted into Selly Oak Hospital.

“And mum and dad are getting older now, and Ilsa’s parents too.” Nick explained glumly as Ozzy stretched his paw and rested it on Nick’s jeans.

“I’m going to preface this by saying that my diet is fine-“

“Vegetarian bacon is still not health-“

“Would you shut up?”

“Fine.”

“My diet is fine,” he held a finger up as Nick made a move to protest,” but you’re right, I don’t exactly eat a salad everyday, and maybe I smoke too much and don’t exercise enough” Strike paused as Nick’s face dropped. “But I could get hit by a bus tomorrow and none of that will have mattered.”

“Is this supposed to be making me feel better?” Nick frowned as Ozzy’s ears pricked up and he glanced at the bushes.

“What I’m trying to say is that death isn’t reasonable. It’s not logical, it just... is.”

“That’s very profound for a curry night Oggy.”

“Shut up.” Strike said and Nick laughed, feeling his shoulders lighten.

“There’s no point in worrying about something that’s not under your control. It stops you enjoying everything else. You told me that once.” Strike continued, bumping his shoulder gently against Nick’s and watching as Ozzy eyed him warily.

“I’m just being stupid then?”

“No, just being a mother hen as usual.” Strike said as he patted his mate on the back. They sat for a minute in silence, just the intermittent purring of the cat and the rustle of the leaves in the wind for company.

“Did you... in the army, didn’t you think about it all the time?” Nick asked quietly.

“I’d thought about it enough before then to be honest.” Strike admitted.

“Your mum?” Nick asked and Strike nodded.

“And before that.” He admitted. The commune, a friend of Leda’s who had overdosed in their bathroom the day before his tenth birthday, and the threats from Whittaker were some of the instances that had acquainted him with death long before Leda had passed away or a rifle had been put in his hand.

“I probably just need to start drinking kale smoothies or something. Get this whole mid life crisis thing out of my system.” Nick drawled.

Strike just tipped his head in agreement and Ozzy jumped free and disappeared off into the night.

“Hey Nick?” Strike said as his friend began to rise.

“What?” Nick answered, turning to face Strike he became engulfed in a cloud of cigarette smoke.

“Oggy!” Nick objected as the stale and musky smell of tobacco went up his nose and he waved a hand in front of his face to clear the air.

“There, that’s at least five minutes off your life and you still have a wife who loves you waiting inside and a job to go to on Monday morning.”

“Alright.” Nick said with a soft smile.

“And a best mate anyone would be lucky to have.”

“Yeah, alright.” Nick said with a laugh.

“And thankfully Robin puts up with all of us.” Strike whispered as they both watched Ilsa and Robin move about the kitchen.

“Yeah. I’m glad you two finally got together.” Nick said as he watched his friend, his face just about visible in the glow cast by the lights in the kitchen.

“Me too.” Strike replied, a slight smile pulling at his lips.

“Come on, it’s bloody freezing out here.” Strike announced as he pulled himself up from the low wall with the help of a hand on Nick’s steady knee.

“And you’re having another glass of wine and I’m having another cider, whether it’s healthy or not.”

“Alright.” Nick agreed as he followed Strike back into the house. Ilsa and Robin were standing by the sink, each with a glass of wine in hand and Ilsa’s cheeks flushed as Robin finished laughing at something.

“Okay?” Ilsa asked, looking between the two of them.

“As if he could stay mad at me.” Strike explained as he wrapped an arm around Robin and pulled her tight against him.

“I love you.” Nick said quietly as he came to stand in front of Ilsa.

“I love you too.” She replied, searching his eyes and seeming happy with what she found.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 😁 Happy weekend!


End file.
